<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Letter on Sunday Evening Review</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/letter/</link><description>Recent content in Letter on Sunday Evening Review</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 15 May 2026 06:00:00 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/letter/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>From the Editor: May 2026</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/ideas/from-the-editor-may-2026/</link><pubDate>Fri, 15 May 2026 06:00:00 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://sundayeveningreview.com/ideas/from-the-editor-may-2026/</guid><description>&lt;p>Susan has been reading a novel on the screened porch for the better part of a week. She won&amp;rsquo;t tell me the title because she says I&amp;rsquo;ll start reading it over her shoulder, which is unfair, because I only did that once, with the Marilynne Robinson, and it was because she kept reading sentences out loud and I wanted the context.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>The porch is open again. This is the first May fact that matters to me. We unlatched the screens on the second Saturday of the month, which Susan considers early and I consider exactly right. The cushions came out of the garage. The ceiling fan resumed its wobble. Hank found his spot in the corner, the one where the afternoon sun hits the floorboards, and he laid down with a grunt that suggested he remembered it and was relieved it was still there.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>